Tommy "Tombs" Perello: [handing Joey guns] Take this shit and get rid of it. And do me a favor - don't fuck it up.

Perello: So, Joe, I just got off the phone with Ivan Yugorsky about this thing with his nephew. Joey Gazelle: I told you. It's not the fucking piece. Perello: Look, everybody knows the nephew is a brain fried retrobate. Joey Gazelle: Yeah, whatever. He's a fucking tweaker piece of shit. And he's cooking meth in his backyard. I know I told you this already, but it's just a matter of time before he blows up the whole fucking neighborhood. Perello: We notice, but it's a sensitive issue with me and you. Now, I'm in bed with Yugorsky on this gasoline deal. Hey, it's a good deal. I don't want to rock the boat. Tommy "Tombs" Perello: Aw, fuck that. Fuck those Russian cunts, huh? Pa, it's the fucking narc that's got his dick in our ass. Perello: Hey, calm down Tommy. You see Joe, the tweaker's got it in his head that maybe you were looking to knock him out of the cooking business and help the boy out. Made a piece available to him. Joey Gazelle: I would never use a kid to do something like that. Never. Perello: Alright, alright, look. I made a personal reassurance to Yugorsky that I would have my entire crew in the street out looking for that kid. Now, in the interest of professional harmony, I think we all want to get our stories straight.